White Queen, Red King
by Mneme
Summary: [Constantine] Can John stop a demon-influenced man from reaching the final step in alchemical transformation and achieving immortality? (Sequel to Not a Virtue)
1. Chapeter I

Below, the streets were full of cars, the sidewalks crowded with people. Random no-names walking unseen paths toward unknown destinations. Some led to ends in this reality. Some led to ends in the final reality.

Above them, John Constantine watched.

He was watching out the shuttered windows that ran the length of his apartment, the same one he'd occupied over the bowling alley for going on seven years now. Methodically he smoothed out the sleeves of his white dress shirt, buttoning the cuffs around his wrists. He always dressed in a white shirt, black dress pants, black tie, and black dress shoes. His black trench coat was the finishing touch on the package. That particular item was hanging on its proper hook by the front door.

He checked his watch, took a final peek out though the wooden slats and turned.

The front door unlocked and opened.

Through the doorway stepped a woman, dressed in a conservative black suit jacket and skirt set, in a fine silk blend. The low shirt under the jacket was cream-colored, decorated with lace along its edges. Sheer nylons and black heels set off her legs. Her hair, which was a striking mandarin orange color, was pulled up into a perfect French twist, held with a large ivory comb studded with rhinestones. She dropped her keys onto the small wooden table placed there to catch necessary items, turned and ran her fingers over the markings carved in the door frame. They glimmered in recognition then returned to their normal state.

"Honey I'm home." Elizabeth smirked. She started to take her suit jacket off.

"Don't." John waved a hand, stepping toward her.

"Oh, you _are_ home." Elizabeth hadn't figured John would be; usually when she got off work, he was still out on the streets, finishing business. He stopped before her, kissing her hard. She blinked in surprise then kissed back. Constantine won out, getting her to moan softly.

"Leave it on. I've got reservations for dinner."

"Dinner?"

"Yes. Happy Anniversary, baby." He grinned.

Elizabeth smirked. "That was last week you know."

"The thirteenth."

"And we did have a small celebration."

"Ride me again soon, will you?" John kissed along her jaw, small teasing pecks. He felt her shiver and grinned again.

"I can't tonight. The appointment is in an hour."

"Appointment?"

Elizabeth sighed and stepped past him. "You didn't look at the calendar, did you?"

"Of course I did."

"I'm not talking about the occult calendar." Elizabeth stepped over to the small kitchen space, picking up the tear-off-the-date calendar she'd given John for Christmas. "Did you even tear off the page?" A rip and the date advanced. "Oh good grief, John!" Several dozen rips followed, until the calendar reflected the proper day. A big red circle was around the numbers at the left corner, with the time written in. "Why did I even bother?"

"If it had been a useful calendar, maybe told me a joke or some totally worthless trivia, I'd have noticed…" Constantine grumbled. "I like those _Far Side_ comic ones."

Elizabeth gave him a look.

"Fine, fine!" John held up his hands. "What appointment?"

"Dago's flown in to ink the tattoos." John watched her; this was a big moment. Everything she'd studied for in the last twelve months was going to conclude tonight. He hadn't really forgotten. It was more a case of selective memory on his part. John wasn't ready for her to move past the study and practice and into the real jobs. It had cost more then one life before, Chaz having been the most recent.

"Sorry." To Elizabeth he could apologize and mean it. She set the calendar on the counter, returning back to him and putting her arms around him tightly. She kissed his chest, nuzzling her face into the fabric of his shirt.

"I want to, really. And I'm touched you wanted to do something. I know, we never seem to have the time or be together long enough other then sleeping…"

"Even then only one of us gets the sleep." Constantine interjected, snorting. Elizabeth nodded.

"I need to finish this, John."

"I understand. It's fine. It's my fault I didn't remember." He stroked her hair, pulling the comb out and letting it cascade free. She'd let it grow; it reached the middle of her back now. "I'll make you dinner here."

"Will it be edible?"

"A guy burns macaroni and cheese just _once_…"

"John, I had to throw the pot out. I couldn't scrape it off. It was like you were trying to melt the metal into the cheese. Stainless steel isn't a condiment!"

Constantine made an exaggerated sigh, hands in the air "I bought you a new pot!" Elizabeth giggled, straightening his tie.

"I just want to get out of these clothes, take a bath, and relax. That can be my present."

"Oh, so you have such simple tastes now? Then why do you keep driving me past Rodeo, slowing when we pass Harry Winston?" he grinned wickedly, hands slowly peeling the suit jacket back.

"Maybe trying to get a hint through your thick skull." She grinned back. John got the jacket off, dropped it over the back of a kitchen chair.

"Are you getting my hints now?" he slowly rubbed her arms with the back of his knuckles. Ran a fingertip along the grooves of the boar tusk bracelets that curled around her arm, were fused to her skin.

"Uh huh."

"And?"

Standing on tiptoe, Elizabeth kissed him in that horrible teasing way she had. Constantine felt the excitement travel from his lips, down his spine, directly to the target. She knew him, and it drove him mad!

"I'll eat after." She breathed the words against his mouth then walked off into the bathroom. John was left hanging. He blinked, trying to clear the haze his arousal had caused. The familiar sounds of the pipes rattling as she turned on the taps; he heard the tub begin to fill.

For a minute he thought maybe she was sending signals that she wanted to be followed. A long moment passed and he could hear the sounds as she slipped into the water. Constantine picked up her jacket and hung it properly over the back of the chair so the silk wouldn't wrinkle. Reaching up to the highest shelf, he brought down the bottle of wine he'd been saving for the right occasion.

The knot in his tie came loose easily and slid free from around his neck. His fingers deftly undid the buttons on his cuffs then moved to undoing the buttons that ran the front of his shirt. Un-tucking the shirt, he pulled it off, draped it neatly on the chair as well. Next he unbuckled the belt, laid that over the shirt, and unzipped his pants. Crouching down he undid the laces on his shoes and kicked them off.

Constantine paused, listening. He couldn't hear any movements in the bathroom. He finished kicking off his right shoe, pulled the black socks off, let the pants drop.

"Happy Anniversary to us." He muttered, uncorking the wine bottle as he strolled into the bathroom.


	2. Chapter II

The antique claw-foot tub was much larger then the original that had previously occupied the bathroom. It was wide and deep enough for two people, much unlike the former. The original that had broken like a Styrofoam cup when he'd helped Angela cross the barrier between heaven and hell; helped her see the half-breeds for their true selves and condemned her to the ever present knowledge of heaven and hell's influences on this reality. Then he'd only helped, holding a fully dressed Angela down under the water, completing the transformation.

Tonight Constantine was helping with yet another transformation. He and the water were the only elements that remained the same; the woman that sat naked in his lap was not Angela. Nor would she be condemned to the same curse John had, seeing the half-breeds and them seeing him. This transformation was certainly just as risky, but in a different way.

Elizabeth leaned forward, one arm around her knees as she pulled them to her chest, the other resting on the curled lip of the tub. Constantine twisted her hair up and pinned it with a wide clip, soaking the washcloth in the warm water before beginning to scrub the pale skin of her back.

He scrubbed gently, cleaning the skin that was as of yet still unmarked. He could see the bones of her spine under the stretched skin, ran his palm down them for the last time before they would be forever buried under the indelible ink.

"Did yours hurt?" Elizabeth asked, laying her cheek to her upper arm as John continued.

"Yes."

"Do you think mine will hurt?"

John smirked. "Oh yes. You're pushing ink under your skin, baby." He brushed some loose hair out of the way, lathering the bar of soap in his calloused palms. "Scared?"

"Some. I'm not going to back out now."

"Not your style."

"Not yours either." Elizabeth grinned wryly. "Do you think Dago is right for the job?"

"He came with high recommendations from Midnite. I don't think Midnite would recommend anyone who didn't have the skills or the power to pull it off."

"Yeah." Elizabeth agreed, distantly. John remembered when he'd had the Red Kings tattooed on his arms; he'd not been exactly scared because being self-assured was just his nature. He'd been more then ready to get them done and test them out, although that had resulted in a few sticky situations until he'd mastered it. Not everyone could pull off the incantations for the Sulfur of the Philosophers. Even when he did, it took a hell of a lot out of him and he would need a full night's sleep before he was back to his full stamina. It helped that he already 'saw' the half-breeds as well. Left him fewer words to incant.

"Recite." He commanded her, continuing to wash. Elizabeth cleared her throat, closed her eyes.

"_Sigilla Saturni_: The first Pentacle of Saturn, black as night. Strikes terror and submission into spirits, invoking the four great Names of God: IHVH, ADNI, IIAL, AHIH."

"Very good." John murmured softly.

"_Sigilla Jouis_: The fifth Pentacle of Jupiter, blue as the oceans. Assures visions, and was held by Jacob as he beheld the ladder of Heaven. _Sigilla Martis_: The fifth Pentacle of Mars, red as blood. At the sight of this Pentacle, demons will obey thy wishes. Most powerful when writ on Virgin paper."

"About a year too late for that." Constantine smirked. Elizabeth ignored him and continued.

"_Sigilla Solis_: The Fourth Pentacle of the Sun, yellow as the fires of its namesake. Enables thee to see spirits as they truly are, rendering them visible to thine eyes. Also reveals the true thoughts and secret heart of friend or foe."

"Remind me not to be thinking anything when you invoke that."

Elizabeth shot him a glare over her shoulder. "_Sigilla Veneris_: The second Pentacle of Venus, green as the Earth. Obtains grace and honor for all matters of the heart, all things that belong unto Venus, and accomplishing all desires herein. 'Place me as a signet upon thine heart, as a signet upon thine arm, for love is strong as death.'"

Constantine leaned forward and pressed a kiss over the spot where the fifth pentacle would be inked. He grinned against her skin, his mouth lingering there. "You desire me, do you not, woman?"

Elizabeth twisted around in his lap, facing him. Her grin was as wicked as his. John slid down deeper into the water, catching her waist in his hands as she straddled him. Both groaned as they joined together; Constantine shook a bit as Elizabeth's desire washed over him through their mental bond.

"Finish reciting." He commanded, finding her left nipple to suck on as she rode him slowly.

"Sigilla Mercurii: the fourth Pentacle of Mercury, all colors of Creation. Gives assistance in understanding the knowledge of Creation. Seeks out and penetrates the hidden. In the center is the Name of God."

"The inscription." Prompted Constantine with a growl as he thrust deep up inside her.

"_Sapientia et virtus in domo ejus, et Scientia omnium rerum manet apud eum in saeculum saeculi_." Elizabeth dropped her head back, gripping the sides of the bathtub hard. John grinned and thrust again, his hands sliding down to her hips.

"Very good. I told you learning Latin was a must!"

Elizabeth moaned, meeting his next thrust with a down thrust of her own. John groaned and his eyes rolled back, his fingers digging into her hips. "_Sigilla Lunae_: The fifth Pentacle of the Moon, silver as the light of its namesake. Protects against Phantoms of the night, and the nightmares and restlessness they bring. Also brings answers to the bearer in thy dreams and can summon souls that were departed to Hell."

"I may need that one." Constantine thrust up hard, hand on the back of Elizabeth's neck as he pulled her down to him. Her mouth found his, ravaging him. Shakily he worked a finger inside her, seeking the sure spot he knew so well.

"Love you." Elizabeth managed, mouth claiming John's once more as she climaxed. Constantine squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the heat that engulfed him.

"Love you more." He gasped before joining her.


	3. Chapter III

John had never met the man called Dago before, probably because he lived and worked primarily in Germany. He'd been impressed. On the outside, Dago was striking in looks: a full beard, long hair, tattoos; your basic hardcore biker look. He stood around 6'5 from what John had figured. He'd greeted Elizabeth warmly. When he'd gotten to John, Dago had lit up like a Christmas tree.

"You're the John Constantine?" he asked, his voice deep and tinged with a German accent.

"Yeah, that's him." Elizabeth grinned, moving into the hotel room to set down her bag.

"Oh, this is an honor. Ve have heard about you in Berlin, how you conquered Mammon."

"Really now." John's brow furrowed, his face remaining impassive at the news. Sure he traveled in certain underground circles and studied most things the general populace had never even heard of, but he was known in Germany?

"Oh ja. It is a great honor to meet you, and to be given the opportunity to ink your vife's tattoos!" Dago offered his mighty hand. Constantine had taken it, letting his inner eye open and scanned the huge German while they shook. He was purely human, but possessed his own magical gifts. He knew the score, and knew the rules.

**_Midnite is somewhere laughing his ass off at me._**

**_Oh give it up, John. Dago's a big sweetheart._** Elizabeth smiled at Constantine, unpacking the vials Dago had requested. "Everything's in order Dago."

"Excellent. The date was consulted and picked for its fortunes." The mighty German turned, towering over the small woman. "I have brought everything needed and ve vill be able to consecrate the seals as soon as I finish."

"You've warded the room?" John crossed the threshold and entered the hotel room. He felt a spirit guard wash over him then fade away.

"Ja." Dago nodded his massive head.

"Ignore my husband. He's just leery when it comes to my safety."

"Then he is a good husband." Dago grinned, his teeth yellowed by years of smoking. "Let us begin then, Elizabeth. I have set the pallet on the bed, so you may be comfortable."

"Thank you, Dago." Elizabeth smiled up at the tall German then closed herself in the bathroom to undress.

"You have a beautiful voman, Herr Constantine."

John pulled at his tie, loosening it a bit. Elizabeth was looking in the mirror as she undressed, letting him watch through their link. God, she was a cheater! "Thank you, I know." He managed. Dago only grinned.

* * *

The buzzing of the tattoo gun sent John's thoughts off into the past. At first they brought up the death that had claimed Beeman, the thousands of flies that had hatched from inside his body. Then to the general sounds of hell. The hundreds of thousands gnashing their teeth and weeping, paying eternal penance for the lives they led on Earth.

His mind wandered back when the buzzing stopped, Dago loading more ink into the needles. Constantine looked back over to the bed, where Elizabeth was stretched out on a cushioned pallet that held her steady while Dago worked. She laid flat out on her stomach, naked, a towel draped over her hips for modesty. Dago sat in a tall chair, leaning over her to tattoo the symbols down her spine.

"A year ago, I don't think even I could have gotten you naked." John smirked under his breath. It was hard to imagine that she'd been the blushing virgin only a year ago. And here she was now, laid out in front of a virtual stranger. He stretched a bit then sunk more into the overstuffed hotel room chair.

Dago drew the paper towel over the ink he has just embedded, cleaning the area. "After this last line, I will be inking Mercury. Did you do as I asked?"

Elizabeth nodded slowly, her awareness coming back. For hours she had practiced meditating, in order to separate herself mentally from pain. It was easier for her then Constantine; having her soul captured inside of a bone fetish gave her somewhere to go.

"Good, ja." Dago smiled and patted her arm, returning to his work. Constantine's lipped twitched. It had been decided to use a tiny bit of real Mercury mixed in with the ink for the pentacle. He'd been opposed at first, until a safe enough procedure had been devised. He reached out, his hand against the side of Elizabeth's calf.

**_Are you sure about this?_**

_**I spent six months working up immunity, John. Dago will test it, and if he doesn't find it satisfactory, then he won't do it.**_

Constantine let her feel his emotions through their link. He was apprehensive. Mercury poisoning wasn't something many survived, and those that did were never the same. Elizabeth turned her head slowly, careful not to jostle too much, and met Constantine's dark brown eyes with her own dark blue ones.

**_I don't want to lose you._**

_**I promise. I'm not going anywhere.**_

_**I'm going to hold you to that. Eternity and beyond.**_

_**I love you too, Constantine.**_


	4. Chapter IV

Dago finished the fourth sigil and turned off the tattoo gun. Carefully, after removing the latex gloves, he opened a small box on the nightstand. Constantine leaned forward in his chair, watching intently.

The German lifted a small vial, holding it between his forefinger and thumb, and held it to the light of the lamp. John could see the liquid, elemental mercury, shining like living silver, inside the glass vial. Carefully Dago set it on the stand then removed a roll of duct tape and a small bag.

Dago looked down at Elizabeth. "I vill be testing the mercury now."

"All right." She closed her eyes. John felt her fear through their mental bond. He rose from the chair, reaching down and taking her hand. She squeezed his back, hard.

"You don't have to do it. It's not required."

"I know." Elizabeth opened her eyes again and they watched Dago don a surgical mask.

"Vhen I say, hold jour breath." He instructed them. Twisting back to face his work, Dago now held the glass vial in his left hand. "A deep breath." He commanded. John gripped Elizabeth's hand and both took a deep breath, exhaled it out. "Now." Dago ordered. Constantine held his breath, feeling it lodge heavily in his lungs.

Dago opened the tiny vial and removed the lid, which was an eyedropper. Carefully, calculating every move he made, he sucked some of the liquid poison up into the bulb. Lowering his arm, he released a tiny drop onto the skin of Elizabeth's back then screwed the vial tightly closed.

Everyone held his or her breaths. If the test failed, her skin would absorb the mercury instantly. If it worked, it would bead on her skin. Constantine stared at the shining liquid, willing it not to poison his wife.

The mercury spread a bit, almost as if it were dissolving, then rejoined into a tiny bead.

Quickly, but with care, Dago opened the small bag. The smell of the power hit John's nose: sulfur. He felt his lungs begin to burn; they wanted fresh oxygen. The German dabbed a bit of the powder onto the duct tape and caught up the ball of mercury quickly. Wrapping the tape onto its self, he wrapped it up in paper towels then sealed it in a plastic bag.

Constantine and Elizabeth exhaled hard, pulling clean air into their aching lungs.

"Jou have trained properly." Dago gently clapped his hand on Elizabeth's bare shoulder. She smiled at him, at the same time releasing John's hand. The blood flooded back into his fingers. She had some grip. Quietly Constantine sat back in his chair, scooting it closer so he could keep his hand on the back of Elizabeth's leg, keeping skin to skin contact with her.

Dago removed the ink and mercury mix he'd already made up and set back to his work. Silently and swiftly, another hour went by.

* * *

All seven tattoos were finished. John surveyed his wife's back, the fresh wounds that were still bleeding a bit. He winced. Such a massive piece, separate images that made a whole. Elizabeth's breathing was labored, from the pain, but she said nothing.

Dago returned from the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel. "Ve need to get her up. They must be consecrated before jou go home."

"And how are you planning on doing this?" Constantine raised a brow.

"Up on the roof top. I have the ritual tools." Dago hefted a small suitcase from beside the bed. "Can jou get her up, Herr Constantine?"

John looked down at Elizabeth. Her eyes were closed tight and beads of sweat had formed on her temples. "She doesn't look well."

"I can handle it, John." She hissed softly through clenched teeth. "Help me up." Her hand reached out slowly, finding Constantine's and gripping tight. Moving to block Dago's view, John gently rolled her onto her side then to a sitting position. Slowly, holding her forearms, he got Elizabeth to her feet. She swayed a bit but remained standing.

"Perhaps jou could carry her, Herr Constantine?" Dago suggested quietly. He had shouldered the carry on and was watching.

"Just hold on." Constantine yanked the thin, cheap hotel room comforter off the bed and wrapped it around Elizabeth loosely, trying hard not to touch the fresh wounds. "She's not going to the roof naked."

"And when does me being naked bother you, John?" Elizabeth managed a pained smirk.

"When there's another male present." Constantine shot back. "Ok arms up." Slipping her arms tightly about John's neck, Elizabeth did her best to wrap her legs around John's waist as he lifted her up. "The things I do to get you to ride." Behind them, Dago smirked gently then cleared his throat.

"I vill go make sure the coast is clear." Opening the door, he stuck his head out before totally venturing into the hall.

"If anything, and I mean _anything_, feels off or you feel sick, you will tell me." Constantine growled in his wife's ear. He had a bad feeling about this. Elizabeth kissed his jaw line, just under his ear.

"Yes, husband."

"I'm serious, Elizabeth."

"So am I."

Dago peered around the doorway and nodded that everything was clear. Carefully but quickly, Constantine carried Elizabeth out into the hall and directly through the open doors of the elevator. Dago quickly stepped in after them and pressed the button for the top floor.


	5. Chapter V

"I didn't think there would be stairs involved." John growled quietly, as he carried Elizabeth up the two flights that led to the access door for the hotel roof. Honestly he didn't mind; he was glad Satan had removed the cancer that choked his lungs because he had a need for breathing deep right now. But this hadn't been mentioned.

Elizabeth winced and clung tighter to his neck. Constantine leaned on the stair railing, drawing in a deep breath. Two more steps and a landing to go.

Dago peered down at them. "Everything is ready."

"Excellent." Constantine wheezed. He turned his gaze to Elizabeth. Her face was gray, clammy. "Elizabeth?"

"Yeah?"

"All right, just checking to see if you're still at the party." Hoisting her a bit to get a better grip, John ascended the last steps and walked the landing to the door. Dago held it up and ushered them outside.

It was dark, but you could hardly tell from all the lights that lit the heart of Los Angeles. Below them the roar of traffic was a din, echoing off the buildings. John felt the gravel under his shoes crunch as he carried Elizabeth over to the pentacle Dago had drawn with sea salt. A white candle marked each point of the pentacle; black ones in between each point. Dago knew his shit.

"In the center, ja?" Dago nodded, pointing.

"I don't think I can stand too long." Elizabeth's voice was shaky from the pain, as John carried her into the magic circle.

"He can hold you." The German replied, nodding again to Constantine.

"You just want me to actively participate." John smirked in her ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She smiled weakly.

"I vill begin now." Dago removed a ceremonial athame and began calling the Guardians. John watched him, letting his psychic feelers extend. This was a perfect point for something bad to happen. When he finished, Dago moved over and cut the thin comforter with the blade, parting the fabric so the fresh tattoos down Elizabeth's back were exposed. She shivered hard; it wasn't a cold night, but the wind was wicked up here on the rooftop.

Dago began the Conjuration, speaking in a mixture of German-accented English and Latin. Constantine followed along a bit as Dago continued on invoking all the names of God. He'd never actually been present during a ceremony involving the Seals of Solomon, but his mind was busy watching for an attack.

Elizabeth shuddered as Dago placed a latex-gloved hand, careful of the blood running in tiny rivulets, against the topmost seal. John nuzzled her ear. This was going to take a lot out of her, but the end results would give her a better way to focus her powers and be protected. Elizabeth laid her forehead to the side of his neck. She was shaking hard, uncontrollably, from the pain and the cold. Tenderly, John pushed the strands of golden hair away from her eyes.

Dago's voice rose over the howling wind. "I conjure ye, and I command ye absolutely, O Demons," he called. Suddenly there was a loud cracking sound, like a hundred guns fired at once. Constantine's radar spiked and he felt something. Instantly there was a massive flash of white as a bolt of lightening struck the cell tower on the building next to them.

"Holy fuck!" John roared. It hadn't been an act of nature; something had caused that lightening bolt. He looked at Dago, who was still incanting, but doing so a lot faster then before. Quickly he sped through the last bits of the rite. Thunder rolled through the sky and John saw great black clouds moving in over them. "Hurry it up, Dago!"

"…To execute all that we shall command ye in the Great Name of God!" Dago yelled the final words. There was a massive boom. All three turned and found the cell tower had burst into flames from the lightening strike. The flames were leaping high into the inky sky, as the candles that marked the magic circle guttered in the wind.

"Move it!" Constantine roared, clutching Elizabeth tightly to him. Dago grabbed his case and undid the magic circle in record time. The first fat drops of rain began to hit them just as they made the doorway.

"I did not know jou had such storms in Los Angeles." Dago blinked, closing the access door behind them.

"That wasn't an ordinary storm." John brushed the rainwater from Elizabeth's face. "Whatever conjured it knew we were up on the roof."

"Vhy vould anyone vant to stop the rite?"

"I'm sure we'll find out soon enough." Constantine descended the stairs quickly, much more easily then ascending them. He punched the button for the elevator. Dago drew up behind them, looking around warily.

"John?" Elizabeth's voice was low. He looked down into her eyes, letting her know he'd heard her. "There was a streak of red in the lightening bolt."

"Red?"

"Yeah. And it wasn't an afterimage. I saw it, plain as day." Constantine stepped into the elevator, punching the button for their floor.

"We'll look and see at home." Elizabeth nodded, eyes sliding closed again. "Dago, if you'd be kind enough to send a bill for your services and call a cab for us when we'd get back to the room?"

"Ja." The German nodded, obviously still spooked.


	6. Chapter VI

The glimmer of the streetlights filled the darkened apartment. It was just after four in the morning; the sun would begin to rise in another hour or so. Constantine watched the play of the lights as they danced around the walls and disappeared.

He was sitting in the chair that was positioned in the corner of the bedroom area, his bare feet up on the corner of the mattress. Stretched out from corner to corner in the bed was Elizabeth, on her stomach, sleeping. It had become obvious the pain was greater then she was letting on, actually spilling over their mental link and physically affecting John. Any tiny movement he had made while sharing the bed had sent off another spasm of pain.

And it wasn't like he could sleep anyway. So he'd gotten up, grabbed an extra blanket and set up camp in the chair. Finally, after some silent crying while he'd stroked her hair, Elizabeth had fallen into a dreamless sleep. There wasn't really anything John could do for her. The tattoos would have to scab over before ice could be applied. Her entire back was an angry red from the work.

John remembered back to his own tattoos. His arms had ached for days no matter how many painkillers he'd swallowed. No matter how much liquor he'd imbibed nor how many packs he had smoked. It had hurt him when he'd moved his arms even a fraction of an inch. He could just begin to imagine what it felt to have your entire back and spine afire.

Constantine had not told her he'd undergone a similar ritual. It hadn't been mercury mixed in with the tattooing ink, but a paste of sulfur applied to the freshly inked symbols. The first dabs had slightly burned, but by the time the both sigils had been coated with the paste, he'd felt like his entire body was on fire. But he suffered in silence for his craft, just like his wife.

Twisting his right arm a bit, he looked at the sigil of the Red King inked into his flesh. The image itself had been pulled from the _Speculum Veritatis_, a seventeenth century work of Alchemical drawings created by Eugenius Philalethes. A mage could use it to summon a half-breed, angel or demon, or force them into visibility. It afforded the bearer some protection when used alone, but used in conjunction with a Seal of Solomon casting, the user stood a better chance of keeping the summoned spirit firmly locked bound and unable to do anything but what it was told. Instead of laughing at you, ripping your spleen out, then jetting back home leaving you to contemplate your stupidity as you died.

In essence, if they joined forces, John and Elizabeth would be an unimaginable weapon.

A silent sigh escaped Constantine. Elizabeth had ended up being part apprentice to him, learning enough that she could help him if needed, but could also stand-alone against any force that might attack. He'd insisted she'd learn a few things at first. Latin of course, for the incantations of the exorcisms, then he'd brought her up to speed on most of the world's religions and their different dogmas. Elizabeth had soaked it up like a sponge, almost as if it came natural to her. Which it had. John knew she had to be to closest thing to a natural witch he'd ever encountered. Never did Elizabeth really question her 'gifts', instead using them and helping them to grow, strengthen.

In the end, she'd been such a natural he'd had no choice but to start treating her like an apprentice. John hadn't really even thought of looking for another, especially after what had happened to Chaz. Besides, he'd already brought Elizabeth back once and made it a lot harder for someone, or something, to kill her. Plus it wasn't like he was going to die any time soon.

At least, he hoped not.

The first timid rays of the sun warmed the side of his face through the wooden shutters. Yet another sleepless night. Rubbing his eyes, John stretched a bit in the chair, being careful not to jostle the mattress. The unknown show of magic force was still a thorn in his psychic energy, taunting him. Something had sent it, maybe in warning, maybe something much more dire. He just couldn't put a finger on it.

Carefully he rose and padded to the shutters, pulling them so the light was blocked from the bed. Folding the blanket and tossing it back into the chair, Constantine headed into the bathroom to prepare. He had a social call to make.


	7. Chapter VII

The front doors to the El Carmen, the fake façade club that concealed the true Club Midnite, were unlocked, but the place was as dead as the morgue. John strode down the stairs and found the same Chicano standing behind the velvet rope that blocked entry. Seeing Constantine approach, he held up one of the oversized cards.

John drew absently on his energies. "Rat in a dress." The card was laid face up on the table and the velvet rope unhooked. Midnite wasn't turning people away this morning. Something must be up.

Descending the steps into the belly of the club, John found a few stragglers still keeping last night's party alive. Another round was called for and a human waitress set a tray of small glasses of water in front of an angel half-breed. Blowing gently over the rims of the glasses, the water instantly ran a deep red.

Turning water into wine was still considered a major party trick by the angels.

John passed through the mostly empty spaces and waited outside the hidden door, waiting for Midnite to grant him access. After a long moment, the door slowly cracked up. Constantine pushed it open the rest of the way and stalked into the office.

"How's the wife?" Midnite asked. He was consulting the brass orrery and didn't bother to look up at John.

"In a lot of pain, thanks for asking. You saw the storm last night, Midnite?" John reached into an inner pocket and pulled a Chiclet from the box.

"Yes."

"Have any idea who conjured it?" Midnite just looked at Constantine. "Oh come on! If I say it's for the wife, will that get me an answer?"

Midnite grinned wickedly, his teeth brilliant white in his dark face. "Word has it she has completed the last step of her training."

"Jesus, why do I bother coming here?"

"I wonder that sometimes myself."

John put his hands on the edge of the desk and leaned toward Midnite. "We were up on the roof of the hotel when lightening struck the cell tower on the building to our left. I can feel it, something's starting again."

"There is nothing showing yet, Constantine."

"But there is _something_ starting!" John huffed, standing back up. "It's not like it's been entirely quiet this past year, there's been the usual possessions, but I was pretty sure both sides were licking their wounds still."

Midnite placed his elbows on the desktop, tenting his fingers together. "She is the White Queen now, yes?"

Constantine cut his gaze to the former witch doctor. "Elizabeth went through the Mercury rite, yes." Midnite canted his head a bit and sat back against the booth. "What are you getting at?"

"You already know, John."

"There's no one crazy enough to pull of the complete process! They'd have to be utterly insane!"

"Maybe, or maybe have help."

"Help from what?"

Midnite shrugged. "I'm neutral."

"God, not this bullshit again, Midnite!"

"Happy belated anniversary, Constantine." Midnite replied, keeping his gaze locked with John's while he slid a bone-white business card across the desk toward the exorcist. "Bring Elizabeth in some night. The first drinks will be on the house."

Constantine eyed the business card, looked sharply at Midnite. Quickly he snatched the card and pocketed it.

"Later, Midnite." John called back through the closing door.


	8. Chapter VIII

In the taxi on the way home, Constantine studied the business card. It was plain, except for one embossed line of text. An address, he figured. He knew Midnite wasn't helping him. More like protecting Elizabeth. He'd done so more then once already, bestowing the boar tusk bracelets that had saved her from possession by a Cherub, and had given John the fetish charm which he'd used to capture Elizabeth's soul in and keep her on this plane of reality.

John climbed out of the cab, returning the card to his pocket. First a stop at home, to check on Elizabeth, then he would head back out to investigate. Climbing the stairs to the floor above the bowling alley, a delicious scent wafted on the air. It was sugary sweet, something he hadn't smelled in years.

Unlocking the door, the smell of a freshly baked cake washed over John. His stomach growled, telling him it wanted a piece, smothered in icing.

"Elizabeth?" he called. Peering around the door, he found her in the kitchen area, smoothing the white icing over the warm cake. He slid his trench coat off and dropped it on its hook.

"Oh you're back." She grinned, licking icing from her fingers. "Happy belated anniversary, John."

"You made me a cake?"

"Yeah." Elizabeth finished the last bit of icing. "You said something a while ago about missing home-made cake. I remembered my mom's old recipe, and it seems to have turned out…" John startled her, kissing her deeply. For a long moment they joined, Constantine kissing the hell out of her, before stepping back.

"Thank you." He smiled, looking directly into her eyes.

"All that for just a cake?"

"More for doing the little things. For knowing… remembering." He hugged her tightly to him, lovingly nuzzling his face in her hair. Elizabeth hugged him back tightly, rubbing his back softly.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. Now, let me go so I can get you a piece?" Constantine gave her a rare grin and let go, watching her cut a thick slice that dripped melted icing.

John devoured it almost instantly; sharing what little good memories he had of his childhood with Elizabeth through their mental link. One of them had been the cake his mother would make on his birthdays. He'd missed that more then he realized.

Back over the link Elizabeth showed him her own memories of the cake she had made, her mother making it on special occasions. Birthdays had not been celebrated in the Alder home. John kissed her, getting icing all over her mouth, making a mental note to throw her a private birthday party when the date rolled around.

But for now, more cake. He was cutting himself another huge piece, watching from the corner of his eye as Elizabeth crossed the room and pulled the chain that opened all the shutters.

"Um…John?"

"Hm?" Constantine plopped the second slice onto his plate.

"I'm late."

"What?" He dug in a drawer for a fork. "Late for what?"

"Physically late." Elizabeth bit her lip, turning back to look out the shutters. John pulled the fork out and pushed the drawer shut.

"Not following."

"My period was late." John blinked; the fork ended up stabbing through the cake into the paper plate. The wheels were turning, but the connection was failing. Elizabeth turned, looking back at him.

"You… your…" Constantine set down the plate before he dropped everything. "How late?"

"Two weeks." Her reply was soft, anguished. Elizabeth had obviously agonized over telling him. He pushed the plate away, feeling as though the cancer again choked his lungs. He couldn't get his breath. "I figured maybe it was just stress, but it just didn't show up. And the days passed by and then I realized…"

"Do you think you're pregnant?" His voice was heavy. He gripped the sides of the table, trying to make the room stop spinning.

"I'm not sure. I tried but I think my emotions are blocking. You could always…"

"No." John shook his head. "No. I can't." Elizabeth stepped slowly over to the table, to stand beside him.

"You don't want a child?" She asked softly. He felt her fear through their bond. He shook his head.

"I want to make sure, before I… it doesn't mean… I never imagined this." He stopped talking, hating to ramble on when he couldn't get a handle on his emotions. A child was a big thing; a whole new life to involve in their world, a world it shouldn't have to be born into. Besides, was he really father material? He barely cut it as a husband.

Elizabeth just nodded, started to clean up the plates. Constantine caught her hand in his and squeezed, not letting go. She looked down at their hands.

"I know someone… at Ravenscar. She can tell us." He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, stroked the wedding ring he'd given her. She never took it off. She loved him, was one of if not the best thing that had ever been given to him. John looked up at her, found her dark blue eyes gazing back at him. "Today. We can go today." They looked at each other for a long moment.

"All right. I'll get the keys." Her hand slowly slipped from his, as she went to retrieve her purse. Constantine realized her touch had calmed him, relaxed him enough that his breathing had become normal again. Quietly he rose and slipped his trench coat of its hook, sliding it on.


	9. Chapter IX

"In here, we'll go in the back doors." John pointed the direction. The cabbie pulled into the driveway, winding around to the back parking lot of the hospital. Pulling along side the entry doors, the cabbie turned off the meter. John clicked the buckle loose, and slid out. Elizabeth dug in her purse to pay.

"I'd imagine she's working upstairs still." It had been a while since Constantine had set foot in the hospital.

"How do you know her?" Elizabeth caught up, walking along beside him.

"Archer was working the shift when I slit my wrists. She was there when I came back." He freed a Chicklet and popped it, punched another loose and held it out to Elizabeth. She put it in her mouth and slowly chewed. He watched her lips for a moment, enjoying the images that popped up from his memories of her mouth.

"So this is Ravenscar."

"Yeah."

"There's a dozen other hospitals in the area, but you brought me here."

"It's a familiar haunt, you might say. Always stick to what you know." He pulled the door open and ushered her in.

* * *

"Dr. Archer!" Constantine called, catching her attention as she passed him in the hall. She turned, recognizing him.

"John Constantine! It's been ages! How are you? Still healthy… or at least as much as possible?" She smiled, hugging him in greeting.

"Gave up smoking over a year ago. Stuck with gum." He smiled wryly.

"Still can't believe you're alive. That cancer was so aggressive."

"Works in mysterious ways." John smirked. He left out that it was Satan's work, but it didn't matter.

"So, how have you been? Haven't seen you in ages, which is probably a good thing when you're concerned." Leslie smiled. People passed around them, some in scrubs. An intercom call came, paging a doctor to the trauma room.

"Well, this really isn't a social call. I need to ask a favor."

She shook her head. "Why am I not surprised? What this time?"

"My wife is down in the waiting room…."

"John Constantine got married? _The_ John Constantine?"

"Long story I won't bother to explain." Leslie raised a brow but said nothing. "I figured you could help her."

"What seems to be the trouble?"

"She thinks she might be pregnant." He said the words, but it felt like someone else was doing the talking. Much like how he'd come upon the idea of their marriage in the first place.

"Has she taken a home test? Any results?" Dr. Archer checked her pager, put the files she was carrying under her arm.

"I don't think so. She sort of sprung this on me. We were celebrating our anniversary…. It was last week actually, but we've been working." She nodded. John sighed, feeling the short of breath sensation come back.

"It's ok John. I can pull some strings and get her a pregnancy test. You'll know soon enough." She smiled "Were you trying for a baby?"

"No."

"Ah, the surprise kind. I know you hate surprises." Leslie chuckled. "You a father. That'll be a challenge right up your alley."

"An exorcism I can handle. A baby is another thing." He popped another Chicklet from the package and crammed it in his mouth before his fingers lot their hold on the tiny square.

"Bring her down to the ER, I'll meet you there. Ok?" She patted his shoulder, gave him a smile, and headed off. Constantine shook his head. He was probably worrying over nothing. Turning, he strode back downstairs to get Elizabeth.


	10. Chapter X

"So, you're Mrs. Constantine." Leslie shook Elizabeth's hand warmly then hugged her. Elizabeth blinked a bit, hugging back.

"Most of John's friends…acquaintances… don't hug me." She smirked.

"I'm not surprised. I've known him since he was 15… an unfortunate time to meet such a man, but I can say it's certainly been interesting to know him."

"My ears are burning." Constantine growled dryly. Both women laughed. Leslie turned to Elizabeth.

"John told me why he brought you in." She reached over to the metal tray on the table and picked up the plastic cup. "I'm sure you know what to do with this. The bathroom is through that door." Elizabeth took it slowly, eyes on John. He looked back, impassive. The specimen cup firmly in hand, she walked into the bathroom and locked the door.

"When will we find out?"

"I can call you with the results tomorrow. The lab closes soon, and it'll probably be processed in the morning."

"You're kidding me, right? We can't go that long!" John gripped the arms of the chair, leaning forward a bit. "I'm serious. We need to know as soon as possible. Pull some strings. For me. Old time's sake."

"John, it'll be less then twenty-four hours," Leslie was writing in some notes on the chart. He kept his eyes on her, not breaking contact.

"Please, Leslie, for me."

She studied him for a moment. "She really has changed you. You've never said please before." John's gaze flicked over to the bathroom door. Elizabeth had blocked their link; he felt the mental wall when he touched the bond with his mind.

"Yeah. She has." He replied quietly. Then he turned his face back to her. "Please. We need to know."

"I'll do the best I can, John." Dr. Archer rose, gathering the papers. The lock clicked and the bathroom door opened. Elizabeth stepped out quietly, handing the cup back to Leslie. Leslie nodded to them both then left the room. Elizabeth stayed standing, folding her arms around herself.

"She'll bring us the results soon." John's voice seemed to echo off the walls of the small room. Elizabeth only nodded. He tested the mental link again, found the wall still up. Something was wrong. "Why?" he asked aloud, knowing she'd know what he was referring to.

His wife shook her head, eyes closing tight.

"Elizabeth, what's wrong?"

Again she shook her head. "No, John." Her arms closed tighter around her self. The metal foot of the chair scrapped on the floor tiles as he rose, took three steps and caught her upper arms in his hands.

"Tell me. Tell me Elizabeth, or show me. I can handle either way." He bent his head a bit to get face-to-face with her. "Tell me baby. What did you see?"

Elizabeth's eyes opened slowly, tear-filled. She said nothing, and he saw nothing with his inner eye. But it didn't take a genius to know. He knew her so well, so intimately, only after a year.

"John." She said his name, her voice small. Sliding his arms around her, he pulled her to him, held her tight. She brushed the tears from her eyes with her fingers. Slowly he stroked her back, being careful of the fresh tattoos underneath her shirt. Closing his eyes he shared his strength, in every sense of it that he possessed, with her, and they waited together.


	11. Chapter XI

John removed his trench coat, feeling like he was stuck in slow motion. His mind was still back at Ravenscar while his body had somehow gotten in the cab and arrived back at the apartment. He was honestly amazed Elizabeth had been able to get their address out. They were both in a stupor. Holding out the coat to place it on its hook, it fell from his hand and down onto the floor in a heap.

Elizabeth was pregnant. Three weeks along. Leslie had handed them the results herself, the black ink so stark on the white paper. John felt the word "positive" had burned into his retinas. Behind him, Elizabeth fumbled with the door chain, finally getting it to catch. She seemed to need the wall to hold her up she leaned upon it so heavily.

Constantine headed directly for the bottles of wine. He started to reach for two glasses then stopped. Put one back, slowly.

"Oh god…" Elizabeth breathed, still not having moved from the wall she leaned on. John poured himself a full tumbler of wine, dropping heavily into the chair.

Elizabeth had known. Mentally she'd felt the spark of life inside her, and no emotions could block that. But to have it confirmed on paper was totally different. John took a large drink of the wine, gulping it down to try and steady his nerves. Elizabeth slid down the wall to land sitting on the wooden floor.

They said nothing for a long time. Neither of them had ever said anything to the other about children; John hadn't exactly thought about having any, considering the lives they lead and the things they dealt with. It wasn't the healthiest environment for a child to grow up in. Elizabeth had never said anything about wanting a child. It wasn't a topic either had brought to the table. _You'd have thought the subject would have come up sometime!_ Constantine thought to himself, gulping down more wine. They had an active sex life; pretty much since the night he'd taken her virginity. Maybe he'd just been a typical male and assumed she had taken care of everything. They were married and all. It wasn't like the kid would be a bastard.

Of course, as John had learned, God really loved practical jokes where the punch line was only for His benefit.

Constantine looked over at Elizabeth; she was still sitting on the floor, staring off into space. Finishing the dregs in the glass, he got up and slid down to the floor, across from her.

"Sweetheart?" Slowly he rubbed her knee.

"There's a life inside me, John." She turned her face to his, her eyes no longer staring off blankly. He nodded.

"That's what the paper said. Leslie wasn't belatedly congratulating us on getting hitched."

Elizabeth put her hand over John's, stopping the movement. "Do you want to feel it?"

"It's a bit small, don't you think? You're only three weeks along. You're not showing." His hand turned over under hers, closing around it. He figured that's not what she'd meant, but he was putting her off.

"John." Her tone caught his attention. Her free hand was undoing the buttons on the front of her leather pants. Unconsciously he began to back up, to try and pull away but she didn't let go of his hand.

"Elizabeth…" he squirmed. Sure he could acknowledge her pregnancy because it was said to be true on paper, but this… this was it. As he tried desperately to think up some excuse to put this off, she undid her pants and pulled her shirt up out of the way. "Elizabeth, please."

"You must, John." She was pulling his hand that held hers closer, toward her. He squeezed his eyes shut, much like he had when he was little and had seen one of the damned, squeezing his eyes shut to make them go away. He felt Elizabeth rise up and move closer, on her knees over his leg. He held his breath, pleading mentally against their still-blocked link.

Then his hand was pressed to her bare abdomen and the link sang between them, freed of the block she'd held against his mind. In that moment Constantine's eyes flew open and he felt it. Felt the spark of life inside his wife's womb. He could swear it even acknowledged him, but he was probably imagining it.

"Jesus…" he breathed out the word, staring down at his hand pressed to Elizabeth. Physically there was no way he could feel the baby. Only through their link did he feel, absolutely know where it was inside her. His face turned quickly up into hers.

The crystal tears slid down her pale cheeks, dripped off her chin onto the wooden floorboards. He reached up, keeping his right palm still pressed to her, and smoothed them away with his thumb. She pressed her cheek into his touch, nuzzled her face to his hand. Lovingly, he cupped her jaw.

"Yes, I want the baby." He finally admitted. There was no way, after feeling it through their bond, that he would deny it. Sure there was no way in hell he was ready to be a father, but this wasn't the first time someone had come along when he wasn't looking and changed his mind.

"I love you." She whispered shakily, kissing inside of his thumb. He laughed softly, rubbing her abdomen over the baby.

"And I love you, wife." He grinned, pulling her close and kissing hard, finally letting it sink in, letting himself enjoy the news. Elizabeth's hands slid up his arms as they kissed, finally wrapping her arms around his neck. Their kissing continued, becoming frenzied. Then John was climbing over her, pulling his trench coat over and pillowing it under her head. Elizabeth was hurriedly undoing the zipper on his pants.

"Want you so badly." She groaned, freeing him.

"This is turning into some anniversary. I can only wonder at what will happen on our second." He deadpanned, sliding his fingers into the waist of the leather pants she wore and yanking them down. She hissed beneath him, leaning up and biting his earlobe.

"Don't tempt _Him_." Constantine smirked. He lowered himself, settling down on top of her. She arched her back, pushing up against him. He gave her back his mouth, possessing hers with his tongue. They were both writhing by the time John began to thrust.

"This is a little weird, especially now that there's a third party involved." He groaned as she bit the side of his neck just hard enough.

"Yeah well, this activity brought it about." Elizabeth's hands were snaked up under his shirt and her nails were long enough to scratch his flesh. He moaned into her ear and moved faster. They went back to trying to best the other, own the other's mouth, when suddenly they climaxed at the same time.

Gasping for air, they separated a bit. Constantine was still on top of Elizabeth, still inside. Elizabeth was panting harder then he; her head tilted back, eyes closed. John caught the hem of her shirt in his fingertips and pulled it up, exposing the right cup of her demi-bra. The sheer fabric displayed her breast below him and he groaned. That was the downside of a quickie; so many things passed by in order to find the goal fast. He pulled the cup down, carefully prying her free.

She tipped her head down again, watching him. Slowly he bowed his head, catching the tip of the soft flesh in his lips before opening his mouth wide around her entire nipple. She squealed and her back arched hard, instinctively. John grinned against her breast and began to suck just hard enough.

"Constantine…" she hissed the last syllables of his name. Her fingers slid up the sides of his face, buried deep in his hair and tangled there. He kept sucking, enjoying the feel of her skin under his tongue. Slowly he realized her hand was at the back of his head, holding him there, and she was watching him. For a while more he continued then slowly let go, tilting his face up to hers.

"What did you see?" he asked her quietly. Her dark blue eyes refocused on his face.

"We were in bed, all three of us, naked as jay birds. I was nursing, cradling the baby, while you held us both." She paused, brushing her fingers down the back of his neck.

"What?"

"It didn't have the feel of finality, like some of the premonitions. It felt more like one of the up in the air ones."

Constantine leaned close and kissed her lovingly. "That doesn't mean it won't happen."

"I know. I just wonder why I see them, the ones that aren't set in stone, when I do see things that do come true."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart. We've got nine months. Plenty of time for you to have dozens of premonitions that will be reality." He nuzzled his face between her breasts before pressing a kiss over her heart. "Love you."

"Love you too, John."


	12. Chapter XII

Elizabeth was asleep beside him, laid out half on her stomach, curled around the pillow she clutched in her arms. John watched her sleep, tracing the still healing tattoos that trailed down her spine with his eyes. It was amazing how much she'd learned in only a year, things that had taken him a lifetime to learn. She didn't have as much crammed into her head as he, but she hadn't had to make the same mistakes, face the same trial and error he had.

He reached over and traced the tattoo that was in the center of her spine. It was the second Pentacle of Venus, flanked by two above and below it. The ink flared with internal magic light. Constantine continued to trace it as it acknowledged his powers and returned to its normal green color. Mentally he spoke the words that invoked its activation and it flared yet again, waiting for his command.

Elizabeth moved a bit in her sleep. Constantine checked through their bond to make sure she was still deep in dreams before continuing. He thought his questions to the seal, tracing it still, letting its magic light drift around his finger and disappear.

There had been a time, not so long ago, that he wouldn't have welcomed the news and wouldn't have ever wanted children. He hadn't even wanted to share his life with someone either, had never thought it possible. Now here he was, married, in the deepest love he'd ever known. He didn't want that to change. Constantine knew love could change. His own parents had loved him, yet reserved their full love because they could never understand what he lived with, what he'd been cursed with.

John wanted the baby. But he was afraid. Afraid his own child wouldn't understand, wouldn't love him, and would know something was very different about him. That he wasn't like all the other dads. That his child would resent his parents, that Elizabeth too would feel the resentment at her gifts. Of course, what if the baby had gifts or powers? Would he be able to help his own child instead of making it suffer through the same pain and humiliations he had?

The pentacle flashed, signifying it could give him what he wanted: a child who would love him no matter what. But that was playing with fate, playing with the cosmos in ways Constantine had no desire to. He shook his head sharply and broke the spell. The symbol winked out like an extinguished flame.

John's fingers moved down to the base of his wife's spine and traced the last pentacle, invoking its powers. It awoke with silvery light.

"Let me sleep." He spoke his words aloud softly. Within moments he was spooned behind Elizabeth, his arms wrapped tightly around her, fast asleep.


End file.
